


With Teeth Bared

by MercySewerPyro



Series: A Thousand Painted Teeth [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Bonding, Gen, clones are dweebs, in which clones are a little more than human, the entire Wolfpack is feral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24064804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercySewerPyro/pseuds/MercySewerPyro
Summary: Plo Koon's always known his troopers are rougher than most, with an edge to them that's downright feral. But a spar brings up new questions. Wolffe, of course, has all the answers.
Relationships: Plo Koon & CC-3636 | Wolffe
Series: A Thousand Painted Teeth [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728298
Comments: 13
Kudos: 198





	With Teeth Bared

When Plo Koon had been handed an army, an entire battalion of men bred to die, their best had already been named: the Wolfpack, a squad of brothers so fiercely loyal to each other they would run through fire and flame just to save their own. The first time he had seen them, trepidation still curling in his gut from the task that had been set before him - to be a General and a warrior, not just a peacekeeper - it had been easy to assume the origin of such a name. Wolffe himself stood at his side after all, and with the Commander’s name so similar it wasn’t hard to draw conclusions.

But he should have known it wasn’t the full story.

No, part of that story came the first time he saw his troopers without their helmets, accompanied by the furious sound of two soldiers clashing. Even on a sparring mat, even with terms agreed on beforehand, if Plo hadn’t known it was a mere spar before this… Boost and Sinker were vicious and brutal, slamming into each other with little restraint, practically _feral_ in their fight. Their helmets had been discarded, and it was hard to miss the white flash of teeth bared, a predatory threat despite the amicability with which this had been set up.

As far as Plo Koon had been aware, the clones were baseline humans. Their progenitor certainly had been. But here, on the sparring mat with teeth bared, he was proven wrong: it was impossible to ignore the predator’s fangs that lined their mouths, sharp enough to be dangerous. Sharp enough - when Boost suddenly lunged at his brother, teeth skidding across the plastoid-alloy of Sinker’s gauntlet - for them to leave _scarring_ on a brother’s armour.

“If this was a _real_ fight,” Wolffe mutters beside him, dripping with exasperation, “They wouldn’t be biting unless as a last resort. Boost’s just a showoff.”

“So I gathered.” And if his Commander wasn’t concerned, Plo decided he would put aside his own. He would let his questions wait, and be content to enjoy the display of skill.

And a restrained one too, as it turned out. A week later, and Boost’s teeth would carve out a piece of a droid in a cornered fury, the action every bit as vicious as a far more predatory species. And Plo would know; there had been the rare occasion he had seen the same in his own dear Ahsoka.

There and then, he still assumed. There and then, he guessed that the sharp teeth his squad bore - Wolffe included, it was soon revealed - was a quirk unique to the Wolfpack, a sign of their solidarity. That it wasn’t natural, just another of the modifications clones did to mark themselves as individuals, in defiance of their upbringing. He was even comfortable to tentatively assign that assumption to the entire 104th, once more helmets were removed and faces were revealed. He could understand that need: that drive to carve a space out in this unfeeling world, to mark themselves as unique and important.

It was only when he finally met Marshal Commander Cody (a trooper even his ornery Wolffe seemed to instantly defer to) - and his grin full of a loth-wolf’s teeth - that he finally considered asking for the truth: about both the name, and the fangs. Really, the two questions were one and the same.

“Commander, may I?” It is not the first time Plo Koon will take meals with his troops, and it will not be the last; this time, as always, Wolffe nods to his Jedi’s request. Plo dips his head in gratitude, and takes his place across from Wolffe, next to Comet. “Thank you.”

For a time, he’s content to let the meal pass: not in silence, but surrounded by the animated chatter of the people he’s come to view as dear to him as children. But, finally, “...Wolffe, if I may, I have a question.”

“Sir?”

“I assumed you called yourselves the Wolfback not just for your name, but for those rather impressive teeth you keep showing off in your sparring.” Boost goes a little pink, and Plo smiles beneath his mask. “But Commander Cody has the same. Is it not an alteration?”

Wolffe barks out one of his rare laughs, short but full of mirth. “No, sir.” He grins, a purposeful display of the serrated sharpness held in his mouth. “These are all natural.”

Sinker leans in with a smirk on his face. “Yeah, and they called him Wolffe because he got his _first.”_

“You did, did you?” Plo asks, warm amusement curling in his chest. “Do all clones have teeth such as yours?”

Wolffe rolls his eyes, a movement always done so aggressively that it’s almost a sight to be behold. “That’s not the _entire_ reason. And yes General, we do, though they’re not all the same.”

“We’re just the Wolfpack,” Boost jokes, “Because we’re twice as feral as everybody else.”

  
  
“And the time Wolffe bit a piece out of a droid on Kamino,” Comet adds, somewhat muffled by the half a ration hanging out of his mouth.

Plo raises an eyebrow ridge. “This sounds like quite the story.”

  
  
The Commander huffs a little, but he’s smiling. “Yeah, well, it’s not that much. I was the first, so I gave the Kaminoans a bit of a scare. I was six when these,” he taps a canine, “Came in.” If he noticed the quiet from his Jedi General at the harsh reminder of his accelerated age, he gave no notice. “It was really only _just_ the anniversary of my decanting when the first baby tooth started getting wiggly. And that was normal, right? We’d been told they’d be coming out sooner or later. Thing is, they all fell out over only a couple _weeks,_ and got the new set just as fast. I was freaked out, my _vode_ were freaked out-”

  
  
“Yeah, and we all thought Bly was gonna pass out when you spat that tooth at him-”

“Look, am I telling the story, or are you?” Wolffe shot Comet a mildly annoyed look. “Anyway. So the Kaminoans are concerned, as much as those long-necked bastards can be. They turn up with a droid in tow, trying to cart me off and ‘get a better look at me’.” There’s a brief roll of the eyes. “The kriffing droid grabs me, and of course I’m not going fucking anywhere without some sort of confirmation I’m gonna see my _vode_ again. So I’m struggling, but it’s doing nothing, just ticking the Kaminoan off. So I just act on instinct-”

“For like the fifth time, I’m _sure.”_

  
  
Wolffe flips Boost a quick middle finger. “And bite the damn thing. I didn’t expect it to _do_ anything, I just wanted to show off how pissed off I was. But I do it as hard as I fucking can, and the metal comes apart under my goddamn _teeth._ My _vode_ are staring, the Kaminoan is staring, and the droid basically drops me. So I do my best to look like I meant to do that, and I just turn and grin at the long-neck. Show off aaaaall my teeth. I think it might’ve just pissed its robes in fear then and there.”

“And then we couldn’t stop talking about it for weeks afterward. They just fucking left him alone after that! We didn’t have to do anything!” Boost near-cackles, leaning back- Only to fall off the bench, Plo’s laughter joining that of his troopers at the sight.

Even Wolffe chuckles, shaking his head. “I mean, it helped that Cody lost his baby teeth next. It was pretty quick for most of the _vode_ in the same age bracket to get in their fangs after that.”

“Well, that’s quite a tale,” Plo laughs quietly. “Do they know what caused it?”

There’s a look that passes between Wolffe and Sinker, brief and unreadable, before Wolffe answers, “They figure it was a side effect of some of the tinkering they did with our DNA. Besides, it’s not like it’s a detriment.”

Plo thinks of the battle droid, its face so deeply marred by Boost’s savagery. “Indeed.”

“Well, I hope that answered your questions, General.”

“It did indeed, Commander. Thank you.”

Wolffe smiles, dipping his head slightly. “Any time. Will you be watching us spar again today, sir?”

“Of course, Wolffe. I would be honoured.” He mirrors his Commander, dipping his head in return, though electing to take his time with his meal. As his troops finished, peeling away from the group to their own tasks, smiles and laughter were littered with flashes of white, teeth sharp and dangerous. Something inherent to every trooper. He had gotten his answers, and a story out of it too…

And yet, Plo Koon felt, deep in his gut, that there was still something he was missing. He shook his head, dismissing the thought. They were his men, and they trusted him completely. What would they even keep from him?

Out of his sight, Wolffe and Sinker shared another look, quiet and careful. Then, with a nod from the Commander, an understanding reached where the Jedi couldn’t touch, and they went their separate ways.

There were always secrets to keep.

**Author's Note:**

> Am I showing how gay I am with giving the troopers sharp teeth? Maybe so.
> 
> But it's relevant, I swear.


End file.
